


Meeting Like This

by CommanderTabbyCat



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:58:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderTabbyCat/pseuds/CommanderTabbyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits Sarah for coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr post (spoiler warning!) with thanks to Johnlockequalslove and Cakepopsforeveryone for letting me use it.
> 
> http://cakepopsforeveryone.tumblr.com/post/132923928472/imagine-john-visiting-sarahs-flat-and-having-a

‘Right, then. I'm going to Sarah's.’  
John is shrugging on his jacket as he says this; Sherlock curled up with his laptop investigating something about a missing racehorse (Barely a 6, apparently.)  
The flat’s a horrendous mess, John observes. Papers piled up haphazardly on every available surface, used coffee mugs everywhere, about half the contents of the fridge ought to have been thrown away several days ago (Including whatever it is that Sherlock’s been poking about under the microscope for the past week or so.) He’ll have to get Sherlock to sort some of it out as soon as John gets back, maybe while he’s away.  
Despite his best efforts, John feels a smile tugging at his lips. He’s home. They got here, to where they want to be. It's fine; it's all fine. It's good..  
‘Fine.’ Sherlock barely takes his eyes off the screen.  
‘Just for a coffee and a catch-up. Should be back early evening. Any thoughts on dinner?’  
‘Thai place down the road.’  
‘We can't order in every night, Sherlock.’  
‘Owner owes me a favour. I found his wife's missing dog; he'll give us a discount on sides.’  
John rolls his eyes, but doesn't question it. Crossing the room, he kisses Sherlock's forehead. ‘You won’t be running off to investigate anything without telling me, will you?’  
Sherlock makes a face that somehow managed to be amused and abashed at the same time. ‘No. Although I’ll almost certainly have this one wrapped up by the time you get back. Hopelessly banal.’ He twists around on the sofa to kiss John properly. ‘And I love you.’  
John chuckles a little at the non sequitur. ‘Good. Then you can get to work on cleaning the flat when you’re finished. I love you too.’ He kisses Sherlock one last time before heading out the door, narrowly avoided a precariously-stacked pile of encyclopedias on the floor. 

John heads towards the tube station, wishing he’d worn an extra layer. It’s September; just easing into autumn, but there’s a bite in the air today.  
The occasional coffee visits with Sarah only started up a few months ago, after he’d run into her on a shopping trip. They’d more-or-less lost touch completely following the end of their relationship and John’s move to another clinic, although after Sherlock had ‘died’ the first time (John still winces a little at the acknowledgement, even now) she’d tried to call a few times, wanted him to come out for drinks, letting him know there was someone available to listen. He’d ignored it, too closed-off at the time to talk to anyone, really.  
And then there'd been Mary. The less said about that, the better, really. 

Sarah had seemed happy enough to see him then, though, and her eyes had lit up when he’d told her about moving back in with Sherlock.  
‘Sorted that all out then?’ She’d asked, grinning, and John had to concede that, yes, he supposed they had. 

After some umming and ahing and eventually agreeing to stop off in Paddington for a pint (during which time he had established that she was still working in the same clinic, not currently seeing anyone, and he had offered a heavily glossed-over account of his marriage ending and subsequent getting together with Sherlock) they had made promises to stay in contact, (which he was a little surprised to find they had managed to honour, in between work and cases and Sherlock.) She’d hugged him tightly and told him ‘Take care of yourself, John Watson,’ before they had parted ways. 

He’d thought about how she’d probably known something all along, going by the knowing, almost smug look she'd given him when he'd updated her on his relationship status. Still, nothing new there. It seemed that everyone and their dog had seen something between him and Sherlock from the very beginning. John often wishes he’d seen it himself sooner. 

He and Sarah had something of a friendship after that, which is considerably more successful than their attempt at a romantic relationship. John supposes he really ought to spend a little more time with friends; have a bit of time to himself outside of Sherlock and the Work. Their - his and Sherlock’s - first few days together had been almost entirely spent in bed with both of their phones switched to silent, not talking to anyone very much; ignoring the outside world for a while. (He grins, remembering.)

When he reaches Sarah’s house she lets him in and bustles around making them coffee, while he sits on her shiny new-looking leather sofa looking at the framed photographs on the walls.  
'How's Himself, then?' he can sense Sarah's smile through her voice in the kitchen. 'Still keeping you awake with his cases?'  
'Oh, yeah,' John laughs back good-naturedly. 'There was an interesting one recently... something about a cricket club exclusively for redheads...' he's abruptly cut off by a door opening and Janine Hawkins walking into the room, wearing a long pajama top that just covers her bum and not a great deal else. 

John says nothing for almost a full minute, taken aback. For an odd moment he wonders whether this is some sort of elaborate set-up; an odd practical joke or something more serious. Can’t be too careful, in his line of work.  
Suddenly aware that he’s expected to say something, he manages an ‘Oh… ok. Hello.’

Janine stops short, apparently equally taken aback for a second, before laughing in surprise.  
‘John Watson! We have got to stop meeting like this!’  
‘Er....’ John has yet to regain the power of speech, although after some time, he manages a weak ‘... I thought you'd moved away.’  
Janine laughs. ‘I did. Managed it for a couple of months. Never move out to the countryside, John. It's boring as shite.’  
John actually laughs, this time. He's still surprised, thrown off-guard, and at the back of his mind not entirely convinced that this isn't some elaborate prank, but there's none of that sick, hollow feeling he had when Janine had walked out of 221B's bedroom. This time he's just surprised.  
‘Wait, do you and Sarah… know each other?’  
‘Been dating these past few weeks,’ she gives him a genuine smile. ‘Which I take it I have you to thank for, in the long term. We wouldn’t have got talking, otherwise.’  
Sarah returns to the kitchen, mugs in hand. ‘Hello, you. Thought you were out for the day.’ She puts John’s coffee in front of him and seats herself on the armchair, Janine swiftly heading over and making herself comfortable on Sarah’s lap, kissing her cheek. ‘Changed my mind. It's too cold out. Another day.'  
Sarah swats her. ‘Well, go put some clothes on. We have a guest.’  
Janine grumbles a little, kissing Sarah again before obligingly sliding off and padding out of the room.  
‘So,’ John eventually manages with a forced casualness, ‘You two...?’  
Sarah grins at him. "We met in the pub. Quite the coincidence, really; she’d just moved back to London. I recognised her from the papers and we got talking; I told her you and I used to go out, and it all just went from there really. We got on. I’d been meaning to tell you’  
‘Oh, god. The papers.’ He'd forgotten. Sherlock had been very emphatic (albeit with a trace of amusement) about the inaccuracy of Janine's accounts. (John had never been convinced in the first place, although he can’t deny the vague feeling of fear and nausea he’d experienced on flicking through the falsified accounts. Who knew the lengths Sherlock would go to, for the sake of a case?)  
He’d known, vaguely, that Sarah was interested in women as well as men. It had come up at some point when the two of them had been dating; a throwaway mention of an ex-girlfriend.  
She’d cocked her head to one side when he’d done a poor job of concealing his surprise. ‘You do know bisexuality exists, yes?’  
And he’d said ‘Yeah, no, of course’ and almost told her. Almost, but not quite. Not then. 

Janine wanders back into the room in jeans and a slightly ill-fitting T-shirt (Sarah’s, John guesses, wondering vaguely whether Janine actually has any clothes of her own) and sits down in one of the other armchairs, turning to John.  
‘You lads need to come out to dinner with us sometime. We never got to last time, and Sherl owes me.’  
John winces. 'I'm sorry you got caught up in all that. He was wrong to... mess you around, like that.'  
Janine smiles at him, and it's an odd smile, almost teasing. 'Ah, no worries. Water under the bridge, eh?'  
John looks at her.  
He's never really thought about it before, but there was something very odd about her involvement in that bogus relationship.  
'She knew something,' Sherlock had said once. 'At the wedding, she said "I wish you weren't whatever it is you are." I think she knew something about my... interest in you. Never said anything outright, though.'  
'Then why would she be fooled by the fake relationship?' John had asked.  
Sherlock had shrugged. 'Honestly? I'm not sure of that part. She certainly had a reason to be invested in my taking down Magnussen; perhaps she worked it out and decided to go along with my plans for that reason. Or maybe she was trying to help me out by making you jealous.' This last suggestion was delivered offhandedly, almost like a joke. But John has to concede, she'd certainly succeeded on that score. 

He almost asks. He certainly has questions; things that don't add up; things he'd like to find out more about. But not yet.  
Right now, he's happy to let it slide. He's not particularly willing to bring up everything that happened. It's over and done, and the memory still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.  
One day, he supposes, they might talk about it, and maybe she'll tell them the whole story. Whether she had really bought Sherlock's feigned interest, or whether she'd gone along with it for some other reason.  
But not today. 

 

John watches the two of them bickering lightheartedly, he recognises that new-couple absorbence in each other, and he thinks about going home to Sherlock after this, and he smiles.  
‘Yeah. Yeah, dinner would be nice. We should definitely do that, sometime.'

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of possibly writing an accompaniment to this at some point, from Sarah and Janine's POV, which might go into more detail re Janine's involvement in the HLV events. No promises, but it's definitely a thought.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! As always, comments are very welcome and very much appreciated.


End file.
